


Mastery

by Alethia



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Control Issues, Light Bondage, M/M, Nate POV, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Porn Battle, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-01
Updated: 2009-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man didn't <i>make</i> idle threats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mastery

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the fictionalized characters in the HBO miniseries, _Generation Kill_ , as written by Ed Burns and David Simon and as portrayed by Alexander Skarsgard, Stark Sands, and others. It is a work of fiction ergo it never happened.
> 
> Written for Porn Battle VII. Prompt was "blind." Originally posted [here](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/395384.html?view=23838072#t23838072) and [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/348479.html).

Nate groaned and tested the neckties that secured his hands to the headboard. Fucking Brad. Nate needed to learn to listen when Brad made offhand comments about tying him up, even if it was mid-coitus.

The man didn't _make_ idle threats.

Nate should really know this by now. The thing was, being tied up? He could handle that. Hell, he was honest enough to admit it turned him on – it was _Brad_ , after all. 

The blindfold, on the other hand…

It wasn't that he distrusted Brad. It was just – 

Well. It seemed like Brad maybe had a point with all his commentary on control issues. God how Nate hated being wrong.

It got him tied to his bed with very expensive silk neckties his mother had given him for his graduation. He'd have to come up with some plausible excuse, 'my nonexistent dog ate them,' something. Because he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell his mother that his very male whatever-they-were ruined her gifts during kinky sex play.

His parents were liberal, but they weren't _that_ liberal. Nate wasn't sure _he_ was that liberal.

A ghost of air across his ass and then Brad's weight settled onto the bed. "Miss me?" he asked innocently.

"Terribly."

"Tugging at the ties, I see. What _will_ your mother say?"

Nate sighed and dropped his forehead to the mattress. The top sheet, because Brad was the kind of fucker who broke into his place and arranged this shit. "Can't you ever miss anything?"

"It's not in my nature." His heat got closer and Nate's skin prickled with awareness; Brad wasn't even touching him. The presence swept up from his ass all across his back…so what? Brad was running his hand just above his skin, solely to torment him?

What was he thinking? That sounded just like Brad.

Nate pushed his body back as far as the ties would allow. His skin met nothing but empty air. "Dammit, Brad," he grumbled.

Brad chuckled, low. His breath drifted across Nate's lower back, which would put his mouth…

Nate's already-hard cock gave a jerk at that thought. 

"And you think you don't have control issues," Brad murmured.

Nate tried to get skin-on-skin contact, anywhere, to no avail. He groaned, frustrated. "I admit I have control issues," he said over his shoulder, hopefully in Brad's direction. "You were right, I was wrong, I fully know you can take care of yourself and me, too, so can we _please_ fuck now?"

"Were you practicing that speech in your head?" Brad asked, mild.

Nate sighed, defeated, and pressed his face to the mattress again.

Then the heat turned into actual contact and Nate sucked in a breath. His skin actually tingled, everywhere Brad touched – thigh to thigh, his hard cock nestling – 

"God, Brad."

Brad pressed against him, then placed a chaste kiss to the back of Nate's neck. Even that made his cock jerk. Jesus, he was gonna come without any actual sexual contact whatsoever.

That was just _sad_.

But no, Brad licked the patch of skin he'd just kissed and that wasn't chaste at all. But then he was gone again and Nate's arms instinctively flexed and he pushed himself back and still he got nothing, so it really wasn't his fault if he made a soft, pathetic noise at the back of his throat. Because Brad was a fucking _tease_. 

A warm hand squeezed around his cock – out of fucking nowhere – and Nate gasped, pushed into it, but he merely stroked once, hard, and then took his hand back again. Fuck, Nate might be sobbing, but this was torture. Being blind meant he had no preparation at all, couldn't anticipate, couldn't steel himself and order his body to hang on. He barely managed not to come from one perfect, rough stroke to his cock. 

Nate panted and flexed his shoulders, but then Brad was there – everywhere – pressed all against him, shushing him and stroking his fingers along Nate's hip. "You have no fucking clue how hot you look like this," he said into Nate's ear. Even _that_ was a turn-on. "Barely hung on there, didn't you?"

Brad nipped at his ear, then shockingly thrust his tongue _in_ just as one slick finger pressed at Nate's entrance and slid deep.

Nate gripped the ties in his hands and forced back a sob of want. 

Brad did obscene things to his ear and somehow demure things to his ass and it was all a jumble in Nate's head, he had no idea which way was up anymore.

Which was probably how he landed splayed on the bed, cock trapped and leaking between his body and the mattress, breathing in the scent of cotton sheets and detergent and Brad.

Brad, who was laughing at Nate even as he nudged Nate's legs open further and slipped two lubed fingers inside him.

Nate approved, deep in his throat. He bit the sheet, just so nothing more undignified would slip out. It didn't really work, going by the groan that slipped out when Brad hit his prostate. He wanted more of that hand, he wanted away from it, he wanted Brad all over him, he wanted to be alone. He didn't know what he fucking wanted.

"It's my hypothesis that your control issues go deeper than I thought, sir," Brad said drily. He licked random patches of skin as his fingers slowly worked Nate's ass.

"Nate," he reminded gruffly.

Brad hmmed against Nate's tricep. "One day you'll stop surprising me," he said softly. 

Nate turned toward his voice and then got caught in a kiss – sloppy, sharp, and _perfect_. He sucked on Brad's tongue, bit his bottom lip, but then his mouth was opening against mere air, searching, right until he connected with his own arm. Which was not his goal. Dammit.

"I have half a mind to flip you over and suck you off while I do this," he said idly, his fingers still twisting inside Nate. They suddenly _pressed_ and Nate saw stars and humped the mattress shamelessly and in every other way acted like no officer the Marine Corps would ever lay claim to.

Probably a good thing he quit that, then.

"So fuckin' responsive," Brad muttered. A third finger pressed inside him; Nate hissed at the twinges of pain. Brad made soft, somehow comforting sounds against Nate's skin as he mouthed his way over Nate's body. It helped. Nate relaxed by increments, Brad's fingers sinking deeper, opening him up more.

"Like all you wanna do is open up for me, let me inside that tight little ass." 

Nate's cock pulsed against the mattress, the pleasure buzzed in his ears and ass, but he couldn't even respond to Brad's prompting. He just had to trust Brad would take care of it, because his body was so drugged with pleasure everything outside had gone semi-hazy.

Brad's fingers were _not_ outside Nate, so he definitely noticed when those were pulled away. Noticed and whimpered. Like the fucking pussy bitch he was.

But then Brad was back, shushing him again and kneading the muscles just above his hips. And then something that was _not_ Brad's fingers pressed against him and sank _in_.

Thank fucking _Christ_. Nate might have sobbed it into the mattress, actually.

Brad pulled him to his knees and Nate went, because what other option was there? And then Brad worked himself in with tight little circles of his hips, expert here as in everything else, until Nate could feel Brad's balls against his ass and his hands gone tight on Nate's body.

Nice to know he wasn't the only one affected by any of this.

Maddeningly, Brad stayed still. Nate followed suit because God knew, it was probably another test and if he failed he'd be hard _forever_ and really, was it such a hardship to keep still for a couple of minutes in the face of _eternity_?

His mind said 'no;' his cock cursed his parentage.

Brad slowly retreated, then snapped his hips forward. Nate would have found religion, but he was too busy trying not to fall on his face. He'd been gripping the ties, pushing his whole body back toward Brad, which meant he had no support when Brad fucked into him. Nate registered a brief, weightless moment where it felt like he hovered, and then his hands smacked into the headboard.

"Huh," Brad said, like they were having a fucking conversation. "Should've seen that coming."

Nate's cock cursed _Brad_.

He curled his fingers around the headboard, braced himself, and pushed back into Brad's cock.

"Any time you want to get to the fucking, you just let me know," Nate said roughly.

"Achieved bitchiness, have we?" Brad gripped Nate's hips, pulled out, and sank back in. "Good to know you haven't gone mute on me." He pulled out again and pressed back in, this time at a slightly changed angle, the kind that made all the difference.

Nate made some wordless noise of pleasure and hoped he didn't hurt himself gripping the headboard that tight.

"Likes it, excellent."

Fucking cocky bastard. Nate had half a mind to – 

But Brad started fucking him in earnest, forceful thrusts that thumped the headboard against the wall and hit Nate's prostate every damn time. He'd been primed to come for the last million years, possibly ever since Brad stepped out of the ocean and met his eyes for the first time, but Brad's hand on his cock really did him in, jerking him rough and fast as Brad fucked him like the ability to walk in the morning mattered little.

Nate came so hard he tasted blood. Heat flooded his entire body as Brad just kept jerking him off, kept pounding into him until he couldn't breathe, couldn't even make a sound.

He ended up flat on the bed again, mattress beneath him wet with his come, Brad still inside him and panting like he'd done two consecutive Ironmans and then sprinted another marathon just to prove he could.

None of which he could give a damn about; his brain had left the building. 

Dimly, he registered Brad pulling out of him, the snap of a condom, Brad wiping him off. More immediate was Brad untying his hands and pulling off the third tie he'd used as a blindfold. 

Soft fingers traced over his cheeks, which made no sense to Nate. Then Brad leaned in and kissed him, sinking down beside him on the bed and peppering his mouth with light little kisses, too brief for Nate to react to, but Brad wasn't moving away. So Nate just held still and let him, pulled him closer and enjoyed the contact.

All that other stuff…they could deal with it tomorrow.

***

Fin. Comments are adored.


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